Finding Atlantis
by Jen1703
Summary: Pure, unadulterated ScottJean fluff. Set preX1. Scott muses about his relationship with Jean while they're on an enforced vacation.


**_Disclaimer: No, I don't own them…unfortunately._**

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**_Finding Atlantis_**   
**by Jen1703**

Scott Summers slowly drew the tips of his fingers up and down the bare back of the woman nestled against his side. Her head rested squarely on his chest, her dark auburn hair fanned out across him, tickling him as it shifted in the slight breeze blowing through the open veranda doors. The distinctive strains of bouzouki music drifted in the night air, along with laughter and animated conversations in a language Scott didn't understand. He smiled as Jean snuggled closer and sighed contently, and he could smell the faint black licorice aroma of ouzo on her breath. 

He decided that this trip had definitely been a good idea. 

Charles Xavier had ordered them to take a vacation -- away from the school, away from their responsibilities. Scott had protested, and Jean had shushed him with a grin and an impish gleam in her eyes. 

Not a month after the order came down, Scott and Jean were nearing the end of their tour of the Greek Islands. They'd visited ruins, ruins, and more ruins: Delphi, nestled high in the mountains of the mainland; the acropolis in Athens; the ancient walled city of Rhodes. In Turkey, they'd strolled down the ancient streets of Ephesus, along the path traveled by Marc Anthony and Cleopatra when they'd entered the once-majestic city so many years ago. Mykonos had charmed them with its windmills, and Jean had made friends with the island's mascot, a large pelican by the name of Petros. They'd visited the ancient palace of Knossos on Crete, site of the legends of the Minotaur and Ariadne's thread -- they'd been bitterly disappointed to learn that there never had been a labyrinth in the city, let alone one that was the home of a mythical beast. 

Now they found themselves in what they agreed had to be the most picturesque place in the world: Santorini. The locals claimed the island was the lost continent of Atlantis -- paradise on Earth -- and it was easy to see why. With the dramatic cliffs dropping sharply into the sea, the traditional white-washed buildings and blue-domed churches perched atop the summit, and dolphins leaping through the waves below, it was a place out of a fairy tale. 

Scott and Jean spent the days wandering through town or along the trail along the edge of the Caldera, gazing out at the Aegean Sea and the dormant cone of the volcano whose last violent eruption was responsible for the island's dramatic landscape. They held hands and shared sweetly passionate kisses for no other reason than wanting to. They had romantic candle-lit dinners, leisurely swims in the pool, and lounged in bed for hours, exchanging slow kisses and making love. It was as if they'd been transported back to a time before the responsibilities of the school and the X-men had forced them to set priorities other than their relationship -- back when they were simply two people deeply in love. 

Scott continued to stroke Jean's back, knowing how she loved it; he'd used that knowledge to soothe her into a peaceful sleep on even her most stress-filled days. Jean made a soft sound reminiscent of a cat's purr, and Scott chuckled. His fingers found their way into her hair, and he lifted the soft strands and let them fall again, over and over. He loved how soft her hair was -- fine like a child's, it frustrated her, but he adored its texture. 

It was at times like this that he was hit by a simple truth -- Jean was everything to him. She was his love and his life; without her, he'd be lost. She'd been his friend and confidante when he was scared and angry at a world that had turned him into a living weapon. When the affection of friendship morphed into something deeper, Jean had entrusted him with her heart and her body and had become his lover. He promised them both that he would never do anything to make her regret giving him such a gift. 

Of its own accord, his hand returned to her back, stroking from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine. She started when he found a ticklish spot, and he could feel her smile against him. "Meanie," she murmured, sliding an arm across his mid-section and squeezing tightly. 

"You love me and you know it," he replied softly, reaching down and smacking her bottom gently. Jean just chuckled and shifted closer to him as his fingers resumed their dance up and down her back. The breeze caressed them, bathing them in the soft sea air, casting the island's spell over them once again. The music, apparently from one of the nearby restaurants, swelled and the patrons cheered, shouting "Opah!" and applauding. Tantalizing aromas, a mix of spices and fish and lamb, wafted through the windows, reminding them needlessly that they were a long way from Salem Center. 

"Hmmmm...this is so nice," she whispered. "Do you think they'd miss us if we never went back?" 

"I think they'd manage without us," he half joked, wishing that their life could really be as simple as it had been for the past two weeks. Fingers mindlessly skimming across her soft skin, Scott didn't even realize that he was tracing a deliberate pattern. 

"What was that?" Jean murmured, having just realized that the last few strokes seemed to form letters. 

Scott paused for a second, trying to remember what he'd been doing. His subconscious had been hard at work, apparently. Suddenly he smiled and began finger-painting the letters again. 

"Anytime, anywhere," she replied with a smile he couldn't see. 

"Really?" Scott asked quietly, his hand still on her lower back. 

"Really." 

Another resounding "Opah!" rang out, as if cheering for them. 

"I love you," he told her, joy blooming in his chest. 

"Love you, too. Sleep now," Jean told him, kissing his belly and laying her head back down. Those seven letters felt burned into her skin: M-A-R-R-Y M-E. 

Scott sighed happily. He wasn't sure if Santorini really was Atlantis or not, but if it made the locals happy to claim their island as nirvana, who was he to argue? Jean was his Atlantis, and together they'd create their own utopia. 

**~END~**

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**_Feedback would be welcomed with open arms! This was my first movieverse fic, so please don't be too cruel. ; )_**

**_Author's Note: Just in case you were wondering, yes, that IS how my own hubby proposed to me. Sadly, though, we weren't in _****_Greece_****_ at the time. )_**


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